


Confessions

by alexisriversong



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Bit Not Good, Character Death, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Injured Sherlock, John doesn't care about Mary, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscarriage, Not too much, This was supposed to be fluff!!!, eventually, i hate mary, my fault, there is fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexisriversong/pseuds/alexisriversong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know exactly what I’m doing! I kissed him! I kissed Sherlock Holmes and this makes me a bloody idiot because I know I can lose him forever for this” the ex-soldier looked at her with rage “I never wanted to be the kind of man who cheats on his wife, I really didn’t. But I didn’t want you to be the woman who shot my best friend and lied to me about everything”<br/>Mary smiled wickedly and teasingly said “Your best friend?”<br/>Sherlock was clearly tense behind him, John thought about what to do, what to say, but it was fairly obvious, he noticed his own gun in his wife’s back pocket and berated himself for leaving it behind.<br/>“Ok then, I admit it, I love him. I love Sherlock Holmes and I know that he probably doesn’t love me or love anyone, he says he has forgiven you, but I never will. You shot the man I love and I can allow you to live, I don’t love you anymore, I think I never really did”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post here: http://allineedislol.tumblr.com/post/101916169929/sherlock-au-john-finally-says-it#notes
> 
> This is not betaed and I'm Italian... if someone wants to beta this, they can leave a comment with his email or follow me on Tumblr (same url as here) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this story... It was supposed to be fluff but become something different and weird... I didn't know how to tag or if I had to put some warning... Maybe someone can give me a bit of advice???

John had been thinking about it for a while, his marriage was not important anymore, the woman he had thought to know and love was just a fake, a murderer, she had tried to kill his best friend.

He also realised that said best friend was the only one that cared about him for real.

Not his parents whom he never talked to.

Not his sister, so drunk that she didn’t even remember about him.

Not his pregnant wife, whose child was probably not even his, there were statistics about how improbable it would have been to get pregnant while using a condom.

Not even his friends, Molly, Greg, Mike, they loved him in their way but what Sherlock did for him every day was so much more.

These days, the more his wife’s pregnancy became most evident, the less Sherlock called him on cases, the more John was sad and grumpy. He missed his best friend so much more than he thought he would, he had been without him for almost three years before.

He shook his head, he had missed him even more then, he had thought he was dead after all. It was weird, he felt him more distant now that he was back, much more than after the fall...

The worst thing was the lack of cases, John finally understood what it meant to feel bored, what felt Sherlock every time he had nothing interesting to do. John had been so bored, he needed adrenaline ruches, crazy runs after criminals through the crowded streets of London, giggles at crime scenes and his best friend next to him.

He didn’t need Mary or the boring preparations for the child’s birth. He needed a murder case. What he didn’t expect was a call from Mycroft Holmes.

The blogger run to 221B, he used his own key to open the door and opened the door at the top of the stairs. Sherlock was on the sofa, a bandage around his head, another around his wrist and a cast on his right foot.

John’s first thought as a Doctor was that Sherlock would have to be on the bed with his foot up instead. The second thought was a friend’s thought:

“Why the hell didn’t you call me on this case if you knew it was a dangerous one?” he asked with rage. “Why did you do it again? Why did you leave me here to confront Moriarty, AGAIN! Why?”

Sherlock was shocked, eyes wide, mouth agape. Anyhow he managed to look and talk normally when he answered:

“That’s none of your business John, you have to take care of your wife and unborn child”

“I don’t fucking care about them! I care about you!” And with that he flung himself across the room and pressed his lips against the detective’s. Sherlock froze, his mouth parted from surprise but John didn’t push the kiss, he just stood there, lips on lips, feeling Sherlock’s body carefully move, his movements impeded by the bandages on his body. When John parted from him he stared at those blue eyes and saw the pain he had caused this amazing man.

Intent on staring at each other they had not noticed the presence on the doorstep until she cleared her throat and they both turned.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Mary shook her head in mocking disapproval “A cheating husband? Are you taking advantage of an injured man? You know that Sherlock Holmes has no heart, he can’t love you John, you don’t even know what you are doing yourself”

John could feel Sherlock stiffening behind him.

“I know exactly what I’m doing! I kissed him! I kissed Sherlock Holmes and this makes me a bloody idiot because I know I can lose him forever for this” the ex-soldier looked at her with rage “I never wanted to be the kind of man who cheats on his wife, I really didn’t. But I didn’t want you to be the woman who shot my best friend and lied to me about everything”

Mary smiled wickedly and teasingly said “Your best friend?”

Sherlock was clearly tense behind him, John thought about what to do, what to say, but it was fairly obvious, he noticed his own gun in his wife’s back pocket and berated himself for leaving it behind.

“Ok then, I admit it, I love him. I love Sherlock Holmes and I know that he probably doesn’t love me or love anyone, he says he has forgiven you, but I never will. You shot the man I love and I can allow you to live, I don’t love you anymore, I think I never really did”

Mary seemed completely nonplussed by this affirmations. She just smiled at him. She had known all along, she was a great liar after all. She extracted the gun and pointed it to John’s head. The man looked at her defiantly.

She knew she was not going to kill him though. That was not his mission, she had to kill Sherlock Holmes, she shifted the aim towards the detective. Then everything happened at once, John flung himself towards her and begun to fight for the gun, they fell to the floor, they heard a shot and Mary stopped moving, she stared at her chest with surprise.

The blood quickly spread on her chest and she let the gun go, pressing her hands to the wound.

John got up, he had no intention of saving her, he pressed his hand to her belly, it was flat, no baby. “Just out of curiosity, who was the father of the baby? I know you lost it some days ago, I felt the difference and I know it couldn’t have been mine. Whose was it?”

Mary looked up at him, he wanted to hurt him for the last time, the man she hadn’t thought of as a menacing figure with his jumpers and peaceful expression, the same man that was staring down at her while she was bleeding to death. She hissed the truth hoping to hut his feelings once more, knowing it was futile. She looked at his husband’s eyes. “Mo-Moriarty’s, h-he wan-wanted a-a-a-an he-heir”

John kneeled near her, no trace of pain or betrayal in his eyes, just hatred “He chose the wrong person” he whispered in her hear and he was able to read the despair in her eyes before she exhaled her last breath.

The detective had observed the scene, not quite believing what he just saw, what he just heard. John loved him, he had killed his own wife to save him, he had been hurt because Sherlock was hurt, John thought he was unable to love him back, he was so wrong.

“John” he breathed out.

The doctor turned to look at him and Sherlock felt he was unable to speak. John had blood on his hands and clothes from where he had touched his wife’s body to whisper in her hear at the end. He also had blood on his cheek and his lip was split but no other injury was visible on the doctor’s body. Sherlock, with all his bandages, had been unable to help him in his fight and had stared helpless all the time.

It had been fascinating, John’s short strong body was an incredible sight to watch in a fight. The only problem of watching John fight was that Sherlock was unable to be objective about it. An observation to be complete was supposed to be objective and the observer unattached to the subject observed. Sherlock was neither of those things.

Sherlock had been really afraid for his friend’s life and when he had heard the shot and saw the blood he had stopped breathing for a second, he immediately knew how John had felt all the years he had been away, the only difference was that he was still there, John was alive, he had felt that pain for only a second, John had felt it for years.

The detective threw himself at John and kissed him hard, needing reassurance about the weird feelings in his chest, needing to understand how they worked, what to do with them, needing to be forgiven for the pain he had caused to his blogger, he didn’t care about his injuries, about the pain they inflicted to his body, he just cared about John.

The blogger held Sherlock up so he didn’t put so much weight on his injuries and then, with the strength of adrenaline, he picked him up bride style. Sherlock protested because of the undignified position, coming back to his usual self for a while. John carried him to the bedroom and cautiously positioned him on the centre of it.

John kissed him once more, noticing they both needed a shower now. He caressed the prominent cheekbone with the back of his hand and smiled down at him. “I’m going to call Mycroft to take care of the cleaning up and then I’m coming back here… Promise” He turned his back to his friend and felt an hand on his arm, stopping him.

The doctor turned again and looked down at Sherlock, his lean body, his blue green eyes searching for his.

“John” he whispered “did you mean it? Did you mean what you told her? She was the last of Moriarty’s organization John, he is definitely gone now, I’ll soon get bored having to stay in bed like this, I will be insufferable and I won’t change and I will keep doing the experiments in the kitchen and..” John stopped his blabbering with a kiss, they both closed their eyes and breathed into each other.

“I meant every single word, you know I don’t mind, I’ll never ask you to change, I love you as you are, sorry for being so slow…”

“I don’t mind… you got there at the end…” he handed him his mobile “You can call my brother from here, we should take a shower and burn our clothes” he looked at the bed where he was, then at his cast and bandages “I think we will have to burn the sheets here too and I…” he licked his lips looking at John “will definitely need help to clean myself up”

John couldn’t resist and kissed him again. “I’ll help you then, Doctor’s orders” he playfully winked at his friend. They undressed from their bloody clothes and stared for a bit at each other naked form, they had seen the other in various state of undress before but never like that.

Sherlock was spread on the large bed, arms over his head, long body stretched, thin waist leading to long slender legs and half an erection clearly visible on his groin, white skin smeared with red blood clearly visible also in his black curls from where John had caressed him earlier.

The ex-soldier was almost on top of him, short, compact body, strong but scarred, covering the detective’s but without touching, his slightly golden skin covered with dried blood from the fight before. He was beautiful.

Sherlock’s attention was divided between the scar tissue on the doctor’s shoulder and the sight of his naked body on top of him, erection inches from his own. John kissed him again, their naked chest touching slightly and making them gasp.

“I love you” John repeated, Sherlock closed his eyes and savoured the feeling of being loved. John sat up a bit, quickly dialled Mycroft’s number and, without taking his eyes from his naked friend he thought at what to say.

 _“What’s the matter is Sherlock all…”_ asked Mycroft when he picked up.

“He is fine, Mary is dead, we fought, she had a gun, she practically shot herself, I will be with Sherlock, we have to clean up, we will be in the shower, take care of the clean-up of the flat, Mrs Hudson is not home, I hope no one called the police, you can take care of everything can’t you? She was threatening Sherlock’s life again after all”

Mycroft didn’t answer for a second. _“A clean-up team will be there in five minutes, they will take care of everything”_

John nodded before realizing that Mycroft couldn’t see his motion. “Thank you”

 _“You are welcome…”_ after a bit of hesitation he added _“Do take care of my little brother Doctor Watson”_

“I will” The doctor answered without thinking and then repeated, really meaning it. “I will”

Mycroft hung up after that and John left the mobile on the bedside drawer. Then leaned down to caress Sherlock’s face.

“You promised you will take care of me to my brother” the detective looked at him with awe.

“Yes” easily answered the doctor.

“You really do love me don’t you?” John just nodded and smiled. “Good then…” he hesitated a second “John?”

“Yes Sherlock?”

“I think I might… reciprocate”

John smile was one of the biggest the detective had ever seen, they kissed again and then Sherlock found himself picked up again. “Hey!” he protested weakly. John carried him to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet lid while he prepared a bath for the both of them. He felt Sherlock staring at his naked form while he was puttering around the bathtub, he didn’t mind at all.

When he finally got them in, he positioned himself behind Sherlock and held him tight to his chest while he passed water on his hair. They could hear the muffed sounds of the clean-up team outside the door but they didn’t care, they were in their bubble full of love and each other. They forgot about what had been and thought only about the present and the future, always with each other, till the very end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is it... I still remember you that I don't own Sherlock and I don't get paid for this so no copyright infringement intended...
> 
> Love you all!!! if you live a kudo or a comment I'll love you even more ;)


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